Snape Smut - Tumblr Posts

I was so inlove with this I had to repost it XD WE NEED MORE OF SUB SEV DFHSLFJSLFND

The way I RAN to the ask button after reading the other requests 😭🙏🏽 this is gonna be a wild 18+ request if you are okay with it. Snape x fem reader who’s also a professor at Hogwarts trying cockwarming for the first time, snape has no idea what it is so the reader sits on his lap and shows him while he’s trying to mark assignments late at night in his classroom to see how long he lasts 🥴🤭

that is disgus-GIVE IT TO ME NOW

minors dni >:(

warnings: explicit smut, kinda sub snape, kinda dom reader, light begging

~

Shadows danced across the stone walls of Snapes office, the candlelight casting a faint, warm glow upon the room. Sitting in an arm chair in the corner of the room, you looked up from your grading to look at Severus.

Your partner had the odd tendency to get as close to the paper as humanly possible while grading. As if the students calling him a "dungeon bat" wasn't accurate enough, it didn't help that the man could not see what was right below his eyes for the life of him. No matter how often you urged him to get reading glasses, he would always respond with a scoff.

And so now, you watched, half amused, half annoyed, at the sight of Severus leaning over his papers, quill in hand, eyes inches from the parchment, brows furrowed.

"Severus." You said, putting down your own grading on the coffee table beside you.

He glanced up only for a second before continuing to focus on his work, responding with a questioning grunt.

"You're gonna give yourself a headache."

Severus ignored you, his only response the gentle scratching of his quill upon the parchment.

Sighing, you stood up from the chair and walked over to his desk. Resting your chin on his shoulder, you peered down at the papers he was grading.

In the candle light, you could make out his thin, cramped handwriting written in the blank space between students, his feedback blunt and harsh.

"Severus you can't call an eleven year old a..." you squinted, "dim-witted imbecile."

Severus smirked, setting the quill down and turning his head to the right to look at you.

"If you had to read these assignments, you would call them the same thing." He said.

You couldn't help the small laugh that escaped your lips. You silenced it by placing small, playful kisses on his neck just below his jaw, relishing in the feeling of him relaxing under your touch.

"Take a break, love." You whispered in between kisses, "We've been grading all night."

Severus sighed, tapping his quill against the desk. "I'm almost done, I have two left."

Your arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders, head still buried in his neck. "Maybe I could help you, focus..." You murmered.

You didn't need to see his face to know his brow was raised. The sound of his quill tapping against the desk stopped, replaced by an anticipatory silence.

His rough hand reached up to touch your cheek, callosed fingers softly tracing your skin. "I can't leave this chair."

An idea weaved itself through the silence and into your mind. You hummed slightly, the sound muffled in his neck.

"You won't have to." You murmered in between kisses before pulling away to look at him.

"Severus... Do you want to.. try something?" You asked.

He looked at you, brow still raised. "Go on." He said, lowly.

"What if.. I sit on your lap while you grade?"

Severus smirked. "Because that worked so well for you last time?"

You playfully hit his chest, moving now so that you were infront of him, between him and the desk. "Not like that! I mean in a different way."

His dark eyes flicked between yours. "Show me."

Your hands felt their way down his chest to his trousers, unbuttoning them, unzipping. You paused, looking up at him. His facial expression was blank, but the slight tint of his cheeks and subtle depth of the rise and fall of his chest showed his anticipation.

You pulled your hands away, only to reach up under your dress and pull your underwear down, tossing it to the floor beside his chair. Severus' gaze flicked to it, before looking back up at you, pupils dilating.

Straddling him, your hands rested on his thighs, eyes looking into his. "May I?"

His gaze softened, but his breathing quickened as he nodded, hands reaching up to grip your waists as you pulled him out and positoned yourself on top of him. After a teasingly long second, you sank down slowly, hissing as you took in his length, until your thighs rested comfortably on his.

Severus exhaled shakily, looking down at the sight of your hips flush together, his grip on your hips tightening slightly. Through gritted teeth he spoke at last: "I hardly see how this is going to help me focus."

You leaned in, bringing your lips to his ear and biting gently. "Go back to grading." You whispered.

His caressing of your hips and thighs stopped, hands paused. "Keep grading? With you on me like... this?"

You bit his ear again, lips trailing down his jaw and neck, placing tender, gentle kisses. "Keep grading."

Severus hesitated for a moment, before pulling a hand away from your waist and reaching for the quill again. A hiss escaped his lips at the movement, the slightest sensation echoing through him as he adjusted the paper before him.

"Darling..." He murmered, his voice low. "Are you...."

Your right hand trailed up his back, fingers weaving between strands of his black hair, pulling his head in closer. "I'm not moving until you're finished grading."

An almost shaky exhale left his lips, his grip on your waist tightening as you heard the faint sound of quill on paper resume.

His breathing was deep, but shaky as he wrote, the sound quite slower than it was minutes ago.

"That's it." You murmered in between kisses, fingers now gently pulling his hair as you grinded down slightly, in one simple, teasing movement. "Keep going, love."

Severus hissed, his left hand gripping your hip tighter as his other hand began to write faster, scribbling his notes down with an increased motivation.

Inhaling, you allowed your fingers to continue playing with his hair as you took in his herbal, smokey scent.

For another minute there was only the sound of his laboured breathing and desperate writing, accompanied by the soft murmers and sounds of your kissing on his neck.

His breathing was getting increasingly louder, his grip on your hip tighter.

"Almost done, my love?" You whispered, placing another kiss on the sweet spot just below his ear. In another teasing movement, you rose slightly, only to sink back down on him and cease your movements once again, a soft moan leaving your mouth at the temporary satisfaction.

Severus inhaled sharply, his fingers digging into your waist almost painfully. "Y/N." He hissed.

Continuing to leave kisses on his neck, you asked: "What?"

The sound that left his lips was more or less a groan as his free hand flipped the roll of parchment and the sound of quill on paper filled the tiny office once again.

"Move.." He murmered quietly, shyly. "Please."

Your fingers once again tugged gently on his hair, eliciting a small, sharp inhale from him. "Not until you finish grading."

He sighed through gritted teeth as tried his hardest to focus his attention back on the task at hand. But it was difficult to focus on anything else, with the feeling of you warm around him, your hands in his hair, mouth on his neck.... If only you would just.... move...

"However..." You whispered. "I would find it quite entertaining to keep you like this, even after you finish your grading..."

He grit his teeth.

"I wonder how long you'd last... How long it would take before you beg for me to move.. Or to let you fuck me properly.."

He stayed inhaled shakily, hand gripping you somehow even tighter as he continued to grade. "You wouldn't..." He murmered, the sound strained.

You responded immediately, your steady voice almost cutting him off: "Oh, but I would."

He twitched inside you, eliciting a small, breathy laugh from your lips. He only clenched his jaw in response, his hands trembling slightly as he marked with an increased desperation, quill working furiously over the paper.

After what felt like an agonizing eternity, he dropped the quill, both hands now on your waist, pulling you away from his neck so he could look you in the eyes.

The look in his eyes was something you'd never seen before. In the dim candlelight, his darkened gaze was intense, pupils completely dialeted, eyes flicking between yours in a silent plea. His hands gripped your waist, almost trembling.

"It's done." He said lowly.

"Is it?" You asked, moving slightly to look behind you at the now single stack of parchments and the quill lazily abandoned on the table. Black ink was spilling from the quill onto the wood of his desk. You turned back to face him, relishing in the clench of his jaw at the friction of your slightest movements.

His black hair hung across the soft flush of his cheeks as his lips parted, eyes into yours. "Please..." He murmered, the sound so low you could barely hear it.

You smirked, pulling off of him slightly only to sink back down at an agonizingly slow pace. He groaned, dark eyes fluttering shut as his hips involuntarily jerked up to greet yours.

"Please what?" You said.

His eyes remained close, cheeks flushing deeper as his voice came out barely a whisper. "Please... Darling.. Move..."

You weren't sure if it was the desperate look on his face, or your own need growing within you, but you gave in without asking him to beg any longer. Your hands resting themselves on his shoulders as you began to rise and sink back down on him, riding him slowly at first.

He let his head fall back against the chair, a soft moan escaping his mouth as his lips parted. "Yes..." He groaned. "Like that... Please..."

You moaned softly at the feeling of him, moving slowly but deliberately. Your hands tightened their grip on his shoulders as you watched every micro expression on his pleasure striken face, the slight twitch of his mouth, the furrow of his brow... All arousing you even more. Knowing that you were the one who made him feel this way.... That he had begged for you... That he needed you...

His breathing quickened, eyes opening, lids heavy as he looked at you. "Love.. I'm not going to... Last long like this..." He whispered.

You moaned softly as you continued to grind down on him, moving at the same slow, passionate pace you had set.

"I know.." You moaned, "Take what you need."

That was all the permission he needed. Without pulling out of you, his hands held your thighs as he lifted you up, placing you on his desk and holding you body flush against his chest as he began to fuck you at the pace he needed for his release.

A gasp escaped your lips before you could stop it, nails clawing at his clothed back, legs wrapping around his waist. You moaned into his chest, listening to the sound of his quiet grunts.

His hands roamed over your body desperately, as if he was searching for a part of you to cling to, his grip finally settling on the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him as he continued to move faster.

"Love.." He moaned, the sound echoing off the stone walls, his rhythm faltering. "Please... I.. Can't...."

"I know." You said, the sound coming out a quick gasp. "It's okay. It's okay."

His grip on the back of your neck tightened, his other hand grasping at your waist as his hips began to stutter, shaky breathes escaping his lips.

He came with a sound that was akin to a whimper, his hips shaking, holding you tight against him as he rode out his high. He clung to you, panting for several moments as he recovered, before gently pulling your head away to look you in the eyes.

His raven hair was a mess, cheeks pink, eyes darkened as he looked down at you, expression a mix of pure relief and love. He reached down, his lips finding yours as he kissed you passionately, gently, his hands still roaming your body.

When he finally did pull his lips away, he did so only to murmer lowly against your lips: "Show me... How I can make that up to you..."

~

yall i hope to god this was okay. i love sub snape and tbh he probably is a sub more than a dom in a lot of instances but i feel like i just didnt do this justice for some reason but i tried so i hope its okay :((

thank u for the request <3

Do ya'll want part 2 of "The Mahoutokoro DADA Professor"?

Might consider writing a NSFW on it too 🤔 or nah?

PART 2 OF "THE MAHOUTOKORO DADA PROFESSOR" COMING OUT ON OCT 6!

READY YOUR HORSES >:D IT'S GONNA BE ONE HECK OF A RIDE >:3

Also fair warning... Part 2 is NSFW as per requested in the votes :3

Part one here

AGREED! he looks so soft and squishy... I'd cherish him tbf

sub!snape headcanons :)

{part one}

im working on some sub!snape fics rn (ur requests), but in the mean time... have this

im high. so i apologize if thiss is a mess. pls ignore the grammar or whatever

warnings: NSFW, explicit, smutty (MINORS DNI OR I STG)

alright here we go (virgin, inexperienced, sub!snape)

My headcanons about...

Kissing: I honestly, this is kinda sad, but i imagine that sev was always really scared to be kissed because he thought it would be a prank. The first time you kiss him would have to be somewhere private, for this reason and the fact he hates pda, and you'd have to ask him. (i mean obviously, consent is important folks) but i mean, like literally verbally, "Severus, can I kiss you?" And i think at first his face is just blank, like hes trying to figure out if you're serious, amd he gets all flustered, and blushing and like "i, uh, you want.. are u sure? i.." or he is literally speechless and just nods

Kissing Cont. As the kissing gets more intimate i feel like hed be breathing pretty heavily. we know this man is skilled at occulemency and can control his emotions sooo well.. but when it comes to this... i think that man lets it go and is just a shaky, panting, flustered mess

Teasing: Especially in the beginning, he doesn't like to tease you or make moves. One, he's impatient. Two, he doesn't really know what to do and is scared of doing the wrong thing and messing up. But the second you start kissing on his neck... Running your hands down his body...

Preferences: sub!snape i think def prefers gentle!dom. i don't think he'd be totally against pain or stuff like that... but especially at first and for the most part, imo he would prefer to be taken care of. like lets bffr, his entire life he was neglected, touch starved and forced to always be in control. I think he would crave giving in, letting someone else control him

Prefrences Cont. He keeps his clothes on, especially at first. prob the trauma, mixed with insecurity, mixed with a bunch of other fun stuff. But at first, he is nearly fully clothed.

Kinks: Praise. 100%. And if you asked him before you guys had had sex about praise he probably would've scoffed. But the second you're on top of him the first time, moaning his name, saying how good hes making you feel, how well he's going... I think hes like o h. also slight degredation

Kinks cont. I don't think he'd like to be tied up tbh. as pretty as that'd be.. i think he'd need to touch you, feel you, his hands roaming everywhere. being pinned down by your wrists is different tho

Fav positions: when he's sub! he def likes you riding him, pinning his wrists down, taking what you need from him. he gets to see your whole body.. and relax for once and be a lil selfish in his own pleasure

Oral: sub!snape def prefers to give as opposed to recieving, i think this about dom!snape too, but especially about sub!snape. especially when you ride his face, when he gets to look up at you, watch your face contort in pleasure... especially when you grind down on him, but giving sub!snape head is like, a religious experience fam. on jah, on your jaw, dun dun tiss. yea that man is a shaking, whimpering mess, his hands clawing at the sheets, panting, cursing, begging. yep

His first time: lets be honest guys. he aint lasting long. but i think he would be like THIS? is what its like? and then proceed to overexhaust himself by going ten times because how in the world had he never felt this before.

misc.

he never used to touch himself much, insecurity and yk depression, but since you... whenever you're gone... he fucks his pillows yep i said it.

he def likes to edged, and having to beg for it. idk why, but i'd die on this hill.

he blushes so easy. like so easy. the man is so pale, one compliment or small kiss and his face is red

he's relatively quiet. he's verbal, but doesn't moan very loud. more so whispers, begs, quietly.. especially at first when he's more shy. but when he starts to get desperate, maybe after a lil bit of edging... he whimpers when he cums and thats just the truth

but if you compliment those whimpers.. tell him how much it turns you on.. he'll let them out even more

building on that, he wants to please you. be good for you. know that he's doing it right. in a horny way and also in a kinda emotional like.. she really does want me look at how shes reacting kinda way

loves to watch your face when he's making you cum

the first time you pull his hair hes like oh....

needs a lil extra aftercare after being sub! cause its a very vulnerable thing for him.. but his fav is just to lie there, cuddle you, bonus points if you praise him and tell him how proud you are of him

this was shameless.

cheerio xx

. _. Dang

In the Back of Your Mind ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Young! Severus Snape x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 4 - Stalking. Severus is in love with you from afar. Severus is also very good at legilimency. You show a tiny bit of interest by helping him out in class and he loses a little more of his self-control.

Tags: Stalking, P in V, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (f receiving, a LOT of it), Very dubious consent, Mind manipulation / control, Brainwashing, Improper use of legilimency, Toxic relationships, Yandere Snape, Creepy perverted behaviour, Fantasising, Implied loss of virginity, Self-blaming.

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 3.7k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Severus in this fic is written to be a walking red flag, don't seek this kind of relationship irl!! I started to get a headache toward the end of writing this, sorry if it's noticeable in the writing!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Splat, Severus’ books thud to the ground. A cacophony of laughs erupts behind him, led by James Potter, a satisfied smirk on his face from having caused this mild inconvenience. Severus huffs and rolls his eyes, luckily hidden by his mop of long black hair. He bends down to pick up the books, not at all surprised when James nudges one further away with the toe of his shoe. He shuffles forward and picks it up too, straightening himself back up, head hung low. He shuffles across the hall to lean against a wall further from the marauders, who hoot and laugh at him. Even putting himself in their shoes he can’t understand what’s so funny about watching someone pick up books. None of it matters anyway, because you’ll be here soon. Perfect you. You always arrive at this class at 12:56, with your friend by your side. You’d usually be chatting, finishing off a pastry from lunch, whatever had taken your fancy that day, Severus guessed it would be the Pumpkin pasties today. He watches the clock above the door into the potion's dungeon, feeling a familiar tingle of excitement. Just as he knew you would, almost exactly as the clock struck 12:56, your voice drifted around the corner down the corridor. He watches behind his hair as you come into view, chatting happily with your friend, carefully holding a hand in front of your mouth as you chew. He imagines you spotting him, smiling and making your way over, giggling and offering him a bite of your pastry. He’d go to bite it and you’d withdraw it playfully, just to tease him, you’d laugh that bright laugh you have and he’d give you a chastising look before stealing a kiss from you, making you smile wider. You’d wrap your arms around his neck, pushing closer so that–

He’s yanked from his thoughts by Slughorn opening the doors to the lab, the heavy wood scraping unpleasantly against the stone floor. Everyone starts to head inside, he keeps his head down as he enters, hanging back at his usual spot at the back of the room, the spot with a perfect view of you. He places his books down, watching as you quickly scoff the last of your pastry, a pumpkin pasty as he’d guessed before the lesson started. Throughout the lesson he’s watching you, barely concentrating on the topic at hand, he doesn't need to, he already read up on it in his own time so that he can watch you. He’s lucky, in a way, that he only has you for potions, no matter how much he wishes you always there, always by him, always in view, else he may never learn anything at all. You lean forward on the desk, your chin in your palms, legs swinging under the desk. He can vaguely make out the outline of your bra through the back of your uniform shirt, it’s black, clasped on the final row. He almost jots this down on his parchment before he catches himself. He imagines that if he told you this, you’d laugh and call him something childish and endearing, like a ‘silly sausage’, flicking his nose gently. He’s lost in this fantasy, this world where he can tell you that he’s watching you and you find it sweet, going through the motions of setting up his workstation for brewing. He doesn’t even realise that Slughorn is calling out to him until your head turns towards him, looking curious. He notices with a start that the entire class is looking at him, the marauders laughing tauntingly among themselves.

“Er… what?” he croaks out, his voice a little rough from barely speaking all day. He hears a few more chuckles, but not from you. Kind, perfect you. You just glance between him and Slughorn without a hint of judgement in your eyes.

“Your hair is getting rather too long, boy, you’ll have to tie it up for this potion, it’s very volatile,” Slughorn chortles from the front of the room. “Do any of the ladies have a spare?” He addresses the room. The marauders and a couple of the other boys explode with laughter, several of the girls immediately shake their heads, or do nothing, except beautiful, perfect you. You’re picking up your bag and digging through it without a second's hesitation and he could kiss you right now, not that there was any time he felt like he couldn’t. Your friend, obviously shamed into action by you, flicks half-heartedly through her bag too. The rest of the class returns to setting up.

“A-ha!” you exclaim, pulling out a plain black hairband from your bag. Black like your bra, his brain supplies, but he shakes that off because you’re walking over to him. He’s immediately sweating, luckily you’re unlikely to notice through his robes, although you may notice the growing sheen on his forehead. You stand in front of him, smiling like an angel. He’s not this close to you often, somehow you’re even more ethereal up close. He takes a shaky breath as you extend the hairband to him. "Don't listen to them, Black is only about an inch away from needing one himself,"

“Th-Thank you…” He mumbles, brushing your fingertips with his own on purpose. It feels like a thousand fireworks exploding under his skin and he smiles shakily. You smile and shrug.

“Just get it back to me when you can, or keep it honestly, I have hundreds and you’ll probably need it again,” you explain happily. You always seem to have nothing bringing you down and he admires it, wishing he could be so positive, perhaps it’s easy when you’re as flawless as you are. You skip off back to your workstation to your friend. He has something in his hand that is yours, something he’s allowed to keep, something he didn’t have to snatch when you left the room. There’s a couple of your hairs stuck around it and he shivers in excitement. This is something you have used, and he has it through legitimate means. He’s floating on air. While everyone else is beginning to brew, he hides behind his cauldron carefully laying down your hairs in his notebook, making sure not to break them, securing them so they don’t fall out.

Eventually, once he’s sure he can’t extract any more of yours from the hairband, he finally ties his hair back into a low ponytail, getting to work. He’s confident he can catch up on the brewing time he missed, even as he keeps being distracted by the sight of you across the room, your hair pulled up out of your face in the same type of hairband you gave him. You’re gorgeous, somehow more than usual, which shouldn’t be possible or, frankly, legal. He’s often wondered if you’re part Veela somewhere far back, because of how absolutely perfect you are. Through extensive research of your family tree, he was able to prove himself wrong, but he still wonders. His potion expertise allows him to catch up on the potion, still being awarded the best potion in class by the end of it. He almost feels bad for everyone who actually put some effort into brewing just to lose to him again, but that feeling melts away when he spots you grinning at him as Slughorn announces his win. The two of you have never been friends, but you have always been silently friendly toward him, refusing to be swayed by the rumours about him. It’s perhaps what he loves the absolute most about you. He’s packing up when you approach him again, smiling softly.

“I actually like your hair up like this,” you whisper, reaching over to gently flick the end of his short ponytail. Severus doesn’t know if you’re teasing him or not. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, both by your words and your playful touch. A hundred images of fantasies he’s had about you over the years flash through his mind. You’ve touched him! Willingly! In that playful way, he’d always imagined you would. It takes a lot of effort to remind himself that he can’t just kiss you right now. His mouth falls open and he lets out an undignified throaty noise. He quickly covers it up with a cough, blinking rapidly.

“I um… you… do?” he chokes out. You study his face for a moment, he’s sure you’re about to change your mind. You could never be so cruel though, he knows this, you’re too wonderful.

“Yeah… it’s nice to see your eyes sometimes,” you tease. Severus forces himself to laugh back casually, trying to force down the love hearts that are practically forming in his eyes. He also has to stop himself from grabbing you, never letting you move away again. He regrets holding himself back when your friend comes up behind you and ushers you away to your next class. You smile at him over your shoulder as you begin to leave. He quickly decides to use the compliments you’ve just given him against you. He wonders how much you really meant to them, but he has to try anyway. He invades your mind, silently smug about your lack of defences even after all this time. He feeds you a vision based on what you’ve just said. His head between your perfect supple thighs, looking up at you with wide needy eyes, his hair pulled back just like this, devouring your sweet cunt. He knows he’s been successful as he watches you suddenly flush and turn away, your cheeks bright red.

He doesn’t really know how you feel about these visions. He’s been invading your mind and planting them since the end of the fifth year. He would love to stick around in your brain, find out how you react to them, do some digging, and find out how you really feel about him, but he can’t risk it. The longer you’re in somebody's mind, the more they can feel the foreign presence. You’re still yet to put up any wards, even rudimentary ones, so he assumes you don’t realise you’re being invaded. You also haven’t started to avoid him more than normal, if you realised these visions were coming from someone else, there would only be one logical conclusion as to who they came from, but you haven’t withdrawn or confronted him in any way, so he figures he’s safe for now. The nature of the visions he gives you is probably enough to distract you from the momentary uncomfortable tingle of someone else being in your brain. He’s been experimenting for a long while to see what thoughts you react to the best. He often sits in the dining hall, somewhere where he has the perfect view of you, and plants various thoughts. You don’t seem to school your emotions very well, so he gets a vague idea of how you react to each scenario. He’s tried visions of him bending you over, roughly taking everything he wants from you, he’s tried visions of him begging on his knees to please you and everything in between. You blush beautifully at each one, whether from embarrassment or arousal, he isn’t sure. He can’t wait to feel your cheek heat up under his hand, because he will get to feel it, some day. You don’t seem to like the more extreme scenarios, complete domination or complete submission, but you don’t seem to mind either way if the power dynamic is a little milder. He doesn’t mind, he would be anything for you, do anything. What you seem to like best is when he feeds you a vision of him eating you out. He supposes it makes sense, it’s completely focused on your pleasure, so it’s practically all he’s been giving you lately. Sometimes he holds you down and calls you a good girl, sometimes you’re riding his face and calling him a good boy, you seem to like it either way. It makes him unbelievably smug.

After dinner, he’s trailing you and your friends to your common room, just to make sure that you’re safe, nothing more. He’s a little careless, feeding you the same vision over and over, enjoying watching you blush and stutter from afar as you try to chat with your friends. You probably think you’ve been hit with a lust potion or something, as he isn’t letting you think of anything else. It seems you hadn’t lied when you’d told him you liked his hair in the ponytail, as every time he gave you the same vision from earlier, he noticed your thighs tense. This isn’t a reaction he gets from you often at all, usually, it’s so subtle that he can be convinced it was unrelated, but this vision, in particular, seems to have you doing this every time. He’d dropped his fork at dinner just to duck under the table to watch your thighs clench, the sight nearly making his mouth water. He wished he could get under your table and spread your legs, make that vision a reality, but sadly he could not. He would do it in a heartbeat if you asked, fuck the consequences, fuck who could see. Maybe one day, if he kept torturing you with this vision, you would come begging. He feels his cock twitching eagerly in his trousers at the thought. You disappear into your common with your friends, him watching from around the corner. He sighs in disappointment, deciding to leave you be for the night since he can’t delight in your lovely little reactions any more. He hangs around at the corner for a moment, debating whether to head outside onto the grounds to watch you through your dorm window like he often did. The mini telescope he had to buy for Astronomy had turned out to be a fantastic use of money, even if he did often see your roommates instead. He had seen them all in various states of undress by now, but he couldn’t care about any of them in the least, he only had eyes for you.

Over the next few days, he eases off a little, realising how reckless he’d been. He couldn’t risk you knowing what he’s been doing, he can’t imagine that would end very well, even if you had seemed to grow to like the visions he gave you. He didn’t stop altogether, because that would have arguably been just as suspicious. He keeps it tame, one or two a day, maybe a little more innocent than normal. He can’t help but continue to use the information about you liking his hair back, making sure every fantasy he feeds you has him that way. He keeps your hairband, pulling his hair back every day now, because it makes you look at him just a second longer, and he’s obsessed with it. Lucius comments on it, saying it looks odd, but he couldn’t care less. It makes secretly watching you harder too, as he can’t hide behind his hair so much, but he makes do, all for those extra glances. He continues his routines, waiting for you to emerge in the mornings from your common room by hiding around the corner, watching you at every mealtime, trailing you back to the common room in the evening and then watching you through your window whenever he feels the need.

One night, once he’s happy you’re safely back in your common room, he turns to leave but trips slightly over his feet. He glances down, realising with an exasperated huff that the laces on his oxfords have come undone. He crouches down to tie them, setting his other knee on the ground. He fumbles with them unnecessarily, frustrated with himself. He vaguely registers footsteps approaching him, but not enough to react before he hears a voice.

“Oh… Severus, what are you doing here?” your soft angelic voice echoes slightly in the empty corridor. You seem confused, and, arguably, you have reason to be. The only thing down this corridor is your common room, and he has no excuse to be here. He swallows, staring straight down at the ground, his mind working a mile a minute.

“Here to return the hairband,” he grunts, thinking fast. It’s the only excuse he has, even if you had told him to keep it. He looks up at you from his crouched position, you’re a lot closer to him than he thought. He realises how similar this position is to some of the ones he’s forced into your brain. He’s pleased to notice, from the flush on your face, that you make this connection too, without it being planted. He shifts slightly, lowering both his knees to the ground and facing you properly. He looks up at you, his eyes burning with barely contained arousal. You’re flushed and shy as you look down at him and he dares to invade your mind to see what you’re thinking. He can’t fight the twitch of his lips as he creeps into your mind, only to find you’re imagining him, just as he is now, pushing up your skirt and burying his face between your legs. He shivers, you’re thinking of this all on your own. There’s a nag at the back of his mind, telling him you don’t quite seem to want to be thinking this, but he ignores it, reaching up for your thighs. You yelp in surprise as his cold, long fingers press into the warm skin of your thighs and he pulls you forward.

“Wha- what are you doing?” you squeak, stumbling helplessly toward him. He doesn’t answer, he feels possessed, and he’s already salivating. He brushes his nose against the skin of your thigh, just under the hem of your skirt, making you gasp. You smell divine, a vague hint of your perfume, presumably stuck to the fabric of your skirt, a hint of something that he realises, with a growl, must be your arousal. You try to step away, but he grips you harder, keeping you in place. He knows you want him, even if you don’t seem to know it yourself. You whimper as he licks a stripe up your thigh, the taste is faintly salty and he groans in pleasure. He hears the old castle creak slightly, reminding him that the two of you are out in the open. He withdraws slightly. You look utterly dazed above him like you don’t understand what’s going on. You realise that he’s walking you to a cleaning cupboard nearby, and your legs just blindly follow him. You want to protest, but can’t seem to find it in you. You had been fantasising about this for years now, even if the reason for these fantasies never seemed to make sense. He brings you in, shutting the door behind you. He’s kneeling again in an instant, he almost looks crazed as he bunches up your skirt. He doesn’t even give you time to acclimate before his tongue is on you through the material of your underwear. You gasp out loudly as he tastes the small wet spot of fabric, when did you even get wet? He takes a long deep sniff, his nose nudging at your clit through the fabric. He licks at you desperately until the material is soaked through, both with his saliva and your arousal. You were shocked by just how intensely your body was reacting to all this. You let him slide down your underwear, figuring there’s no point stopping him now. You lean back against the wall as he buries his head between your legs, shaking his head slightly to get even closer, the movement making you moan softly. He’s undeniably eager, lapping and slurping at you, but it’s fairly clear he’s never done this before. This is all he’s ever wanted, and he’s determined to make the most of it, the scent and taste of you making him feel insane. He rubs you all over his face, wriggling his tongue against you, gripping the flesh of your buttocks to keep you in place. He’s mumbling against you, about how long he’s been picturing this, but you can’t quite hear him, which is probably for the best. He makes up for his lack of experience with his enthusiasm, the way he’s looking up at you like he’s desperate to please. You find yourself falling apart all over his face shockingly fast, biting your lip to stifle your whines.

“Thank you, thank you,” he mumbles over and over as he laps you all up. He pulls away and you go a little limp, sliding slightly down the wall as he stands. You barely register what’s happening as he turns you around pressing you up against the wall, your eyes widen as he pushes inside you, but by now you’re well past the point of no return, so you simply brace yourself against the wall. He humps you like a dog in heat, sloppy and fast, you’re glad he made you orgasm earlier because you don’t get the feeling you will be cumming from this. Not that it feels bad, in fact, it feels quite good, making you moan as he bullies against you. He grips your waist tight with his slender fingers. “This is perfect, everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” he whimpers in your ear. “Now that I’ve had a taste of you, I’m never letting you go, you’re mine now,” you know what he’s saying is worrying, but your fucked out mind can’t quite realise the true danger of what he’s saying and what your lack of protesting is solidifying in his mind. “All mine,” he growls, his hips stuttering violently. He buries himself as deep as he can. “Fo-forever,” he groans shakily as he spills deep inside of you. He holds you there for a long time, your body limp in his arms as he pants against the back of your neck. You feel lightheaded, you can’t believe everything that’s just happened to you. He kisses your cheek, over and over, as if it's some sort of compulsion. “Mine, mine, mine,” he mumbles repeatedly, the reality of everything starting to sink in for you. Maybe you should have believed the rumours about his mental instability, maybe you should have kicked him away when he first grabbed your thighs, perhaps you should be telling him right now that you’re not his, but instead, a string of words come out of your mouth, feeling like they’re only half your own.

“Can you eat me out again?”

And he happily complies, sliding back down onto his knees.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo